


this is nice but also that is a murder bed

by ConvenientAlias



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s01e02 It's All Her Fault, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 16:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16769134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConvenientAlias/pseuds/ConvenientAlias
Summary: Connor finds Wes sitting on the bed in the St. Vincent house, sound asleep.





	this is nice but also that is a murder bed

They don’t leave the St. Vincent house all at once. Annalise goes first, Bonnie whisking along behind her, and Laurel behind them, still clutching at her brief moment of glory after having come up with the plan off attack. They’re off to meet with Stuart himself, counsel him so he knows to admit to the murder of his first wife—it’s not exactly intuitive. Now the rest of them leave the house slowly, filtering out. Frank leaves with Asher and Michaela following; apparently they’ve bonded ever so slightly over mulling over trash cans. They still all glare and snipe at each other but there’s some kind of rapport.

As for Connor, he’s about to leave, but it occurs to him that Wes drove here with Annalise but didn’t leave with her. He’s going to be stranded. Come to think of it, where is he? Connor frowns. Did he leave while Connor wasn’t paying much attention?

Not that he keeps a close eye on waitlist, but.

He does keep a loose eye on him. Wes is worth looking at, after all. He had to hide a grin the other day when Stuart—though they then thought his name was Max—told his daughter the two could “make beautiful babies.” Wes acted just awkward enough about it to put thoughts in his head; maybe he doesn’t swing that way. It’s a pointless fantasy. Gay guys _tell_ Connor they’re gay; he’s hot enough that they want him to know. Still.

Waitlist isn’t exactly an open book in any other way, so. But then, none of them are.

In any case, he thinks he would have seen Wes leave. He walks back through the empty house, footsteps echoing. He’s not in the parlor, not in the hall. That only leaves the scene of the crime. He walks into the bedroom and there Wes is.

He’s sitting on the bed, slumped a little bit, barely avoiding the patches of blood. Connor is about to make a remark when he hears a low noise. A snore.

Wes is _sleeping_.

That really is too much. Connor laughs, and he shakes Wes’s shoulder. “Hey. Hey! Waitlist.”

Wes wakes up with a flutter of eyelashes, and when his eyes meet Connor’s they’re still a little fogged over. Then they blink and fill with concern. “Connor? Where is everyone?”

“They’re all gone. You fell asleep.”

The pause as Wes takes this in is beautiful. “Oh my God.” He starts to get up but Connor pushes him back down and sits down next to him. And Wes looks at him, and Connor realizes he doesn’t really know why he did that.

“No need to hurry,” he says. “They’re gone, they wouldn’t even know if you went back to sleep. Curled right up. Though, you picked a bad place for it.”

He gives the bloody blankets a dirty look. Not a week ago, he was on them, Stuart pinning him down, all eyes on him. Stuart embarrassingly close and not even fazed by it. For a moment he’d been fighting off arousal—until Stuart thrust a pen at his neck and started to mime murdering him, which was not so much his kink.

But for just a moment he’d been into it, into Stuart. Just one stupid moment, and he’d been into a murderer. And he’d thought Stuart was probably the murderer at the time, too. It just wasn’t enough to turn him off, knowing it in the abstract, not until Stuart had proved it to him. It’s probably for the best that he’d learned that about himself sooner rather than later.

He thinks about the class earlier, Annalise warning them: Careful who you befriend, who you sleep with. He thinks about how easy it must be for people to blind themselves to danger.

He’s been quiet for a minute now, and Wes yawns. “You shouldn’t tempt me.”

“Huh?” Tempt—

“I really could go right back to sleep. Even if it’s a crime scene.” Wes rubbed at his eyes and huffed. “I guess that says something about my standards.”

They are sitting only an inch or so apart. It is the easiest thing in the world for Connor to reach over and pull Wes until he slumps against his side. Wes is taller and it’s not a neat lean, but he pushes Wes’s head onto his shoulder. The incredible thing is that Wes doesn’t resist. Try this move on, say, Millstone, and you’d get “no-homos” for miles, and then distance for days. But Wes curls against him. Maybe he’s just that tired. It’s only the beginning of the semester but this is law school. Every week’s a hard week.

“You think we’re going to win this case?” Wes asks.

Connor’s arm is around his back. It’s a nice back, lean but muscled, well hidden by his button-up shirts but well shaped underneath. He can’t really focus on an answer, but he says, “In Annalise we trust.”

“I guess Laurel handed us this one.”

“We would have come up with it eventually.” He can feel Wes shift against him and realizes that right then and there he’s created a _we_ , one that doesn’t include Laurel. Who it does include, he isn’t exactly sure. But it means something.

He pats Wes on the back before disentangling himself and standing. Wes hurriedly stands too, straightening his shirt. He starts to speak, words out of order, looking at the floor. He’s saying something about how he’s glad Connor woke up and he feels stupid having fallen asleep at all, trying to shake the awkwardness of the situation. He’s solid and good and frankly does not belong in this room. So Connor says, “I was gonna get takeout with a guy tonight.”

“Oh. That sounds, um. That sounds great.”

“Not really in the mood to see him right now, though. Kind of out of it.” He pushed his hair back. “Want to get some with me?”

“Get some—”

“Takeout. Maybe Chinese?”

Wes nods. He doesn’t smile; his mouth hangs open a bit. But it’s still very cute, and Connor can’t help but dart in and kiss him on the cheek, a chaste, smacking kiss. That sends Wes stumbling back, but not in a freaked-out way, more in a daze.

“Come on, then,” Connor says.

Maybe he likes it a little dangerous. But tonight, he thinks he’ll try something safe.

**Author's Note:**

> I sort of started a rewatch of HTGAWM and my fave is Wes but. Having watched episode 2 again I remembered that I did have feelings about Connor and that murder bed. This was originally going to go some slightly steamier places but did not work out that way, lols. I think that while the murder bed gets me in the mood it does not really do the same thing for Connor.  
> Comments and kudos would be lovely :) or come chill with me on tumblr at convenientalias.


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